Dedicated: Decisions
by corneroffandom
Summary: Heath Slater's reaction to an unexpected suggestion.


Heath Slater sighs tiredly. It'd been weeks since Wade Barrett had left for England to sort out his various Visa issues, the United States government's shutdown slowing things down ridiculously. He'd passed the time as best as he could, partying with Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal, but he's quickly losing patience with the entire situation, wanting Wade back home already, missing his voice, his touch. Everything about him, more than he'd ever thought possible a couple years ago. He feels dizzy and hot from the alcohol, but shivery and sick, all at the same time. He thinks Drew has a window open but he doesn't have the strength to sit up and yell at him to close it, grumbling wearily as he throws an arm over his face.

"Wade," he murmurs, drifting somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. His eyes flicker open as the bed dips next to him, something warm and heavy leaning against him. "Wade?" But that's not right, Wade's not even in the country, much less in his bed. He turns and looks over to find dark eyes staring back at him, Heath shaking his head. "Drew, whatcha doin', man?" He wonders where Jinder is, but all thoughts fade away when Drew touches his jaw and makes him look at him. "Drew..."

"Heath, c'mon, man, you know why I've been so eager to party these last couple of weeks, right?" Heath grimaces and shakes his head, eyes half-lidded. "You can't even guess?" Drew seems disappointed momentarily, but he shrugs it off. "Alright then, I'll explain. I successfully gained my green card a few weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah, that's somethin' to celebrate," Heath murmurs, still off-balanced from the amount of drinks they'd had within the last couple of hours. "I did congratulate ya, didn't I, man? I can't remember... things are kinda fuzzy..."

"Yeah, you did," Drew says, licking his lips. "But that's not what I'm celebratin'. I, um. It's just that, my having a green card means I never have to leave again." He trails a hand up Heath's face, shivering at the feel of his flushed skin under his fingers. "I never have to leave_ you_ again. I can stay, we can be together forever. Unlike Barrett, who has to leave every few years, when it seems to take him longer and longer to come back to you each time."

Heath looks like he's been hit by a car, blinking blurrily up at McIntyre as he hovers over him, smirking slightly. "Uh, Drew, man-" he's just barely gotten the words out when the Scot leans in and kisses him, pressing him down into the bedding. Heath's lack of response doesn't seem to bother him as he shifts down against him, sighing his name against his skin. "No, no- what-" he gasps, his brain finally working again as he realizes what's happening, struggling and squirming until he finally gets enough space to push Drew back, sitting up forcefully. "Ow," he whines as his head spins anew at the sudden change in position, a headache beginning to pound against his temple. "Dammit, Drew, what made you think that'd be alright?"

"What makes you say that it isn't?" the taller man mutters, brushing hair out of Heath's eyes with a faint smile. "Barrett's not interested, he can barely call every night, much less actually be here when you need him. I've been here for you for the last year, good times and bad, even when you were trying to push me away-" He leans in and grazes his lips against Heath's neck, brows furrowing when Slater jumps up to his feet, mumbling to himself.

"No, no," he shakes his head, hands lifted up in defense. "Drew, c'mon, man. I told you before- I love Wade, I've loved Wade three times as long as 3MB's been a thing. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but it's not the same. We're just friends, Wade is my-"

"Is your what? When's the last time you even_ talked _to him?!" he demands, eyes flashing as he gets to his feet and grimaces at Heath. "I am always the one listening to you complain or talk, I don't even tell you to shut up when you won't stop singing at 3 AM halfway through an unending drive! Hell, I even like listening to you! But it's never enough, you just can't see what's right in front of you-"

"What's in front of me," Heath says, putting more distance between them, eyes darting around nervously as he struggles to remain on his feet, "is Wade when he gets his Visa issues straightened out. What's in front of me is spending time catching up with him at our apartment, while Boodah jumps all over us and threatens to smother us because he's been missing us so much the last few months. What's in _front_ of me is my nightly phonecall with Wade, taken in the hotel lobby because I've been doing what I can to not rub it in, or hurt your feelings more. Because I _know_ what unrequited feelings can do to a guy, thought mine for Wade was like that for the better part of two years. I never intended on doin' that to you when I agreed to start 3MB with you and Jinder, I just didn't know how you felt in time. Now we're here and... I just don't know what to do anymore."

He wavers on his feet drunkenly, Drew reaching out for him, a startled look on his face. "You did what...?"

Heath shakes his head, fluttering his hand around and ducking away from Drew's hand. "I gotta go, I can't stay here. I needta talk to Wade."

All Drew can do is watch, sinking down on the bed, as Heath grabs his phone and wallet and stumbles out of the room.

Heath leans against the elevator, breathing heavily as he checks his money, wondering if he could afford a plane ticket home. Once he's on the ground floor of the hotel, he finds a quiet corner and hits speed dial 2, listening to it ring in repeatedly until finally it clicks, Wade's thickly accented voice greeting him. He smiles and rests his forehead against the cool plastic of the device, sighing softly. "Hey, Brit," he murmurs, not wanting his extended silence to make the other man think that something's seriously wrong. "We need to talk..."

"What's going on, Ginger?" he asks, voice tense with worry. "You sound drunk."

"I am," he mutters, eyes closed. "But that's not the important thing. I, um. Something happened." He pauses, in disbelief that he's about to say what's on the tip of his tongue. "I think... I need to take some time off."

Wade stays silent for a long time. "Explain," he says lowly.

So Heath does, each word a relief as his guilt for not fighting Drew off sooner, and the burden of not making him see reason the first time he'd made advances, eases. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Wade sighs, sounding as frustrated as Heath feels. "I think you're right. Some time off will probably be good for you. Besides, I'll be home soon, and then we can figure it out from there."

Heath's eyes well with tears at this news and he smiles shakily. "Really? How soon is soon?"

"Very soon," Wade promises him. "Go home, spend some time with Boodah. I'll be back and we can figure this all out from there. If Drew gives you anymore problems, ..."

"He won't," Heath mutters, resting his head against the cool window as he stares out at the bustling city life. "But if he does, I'll call management or the police or... both."

"That's it," the Brit says. "You sound exhausted, is there someone you can stay with for tonight until you can fly out?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll figure it out. I'll be ok." He grimaces and sighs, wishing it was Wade's hand he was holding onto instead of the impersonal cell phone. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. And Ginger?"

"Mm hmm?"

"I love you."

Heath grins against the glass pane, humming sleepily. "I love you too."


End file.
